


The Lost Colony of Roanoke

by purplejohto



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Historical, History, character-freeform, historical fiction - Freeform, historical non-fiction, lost colony of roanoke island, non-fiction, this is not good please don't read it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:39:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27750133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplejohto/pseuds/purplejohto
Summary: the beginning bolded part is non-fiction, it's past that point where the historical fiction part begins. also, the second chapter is just from alfred's perspective.telling the story of how the people of roanoke island disappeared from the perspective of an outsider and the only survivor.
Relationships: America & England (Hetalia)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	1. Landing in Roanoke

**The Roanoke settlement was often deemed the second British colony in North America, in what is now, the Dare County of North Carolina, USA. Interestingly, the first attempt of creating a colony there by Ralph Lane in 1585 would result in a failure even before the place would be given its nickname. This was mainly due to hostile relations between and white settlers and the local indigenous tribes. Particularly after they'd killed Pemisapan, a double agent from the Chowanoke tribe that’d befriended Lane’s trust. But still, Pemisapan was a higher up in the tribe's council, and unlike the others, advocated in an anti-British favour. When the last of the pro-British members, Ensenore, died, Pemisapan and his supporters destroyed fishnets and supplies, leaving the settlers with a food shortage. With the rising tensions between local tribes, Lane and his followers had no choice but to retreat and abandon the colony.**

**Despite this, another colony on Roanoke would be established two years later in 1586-1587 led by John White and a few others of his associates. The initial settlers would amount to about 115 people; this would include White's daughter, who was pregnant at the time, and her husband. It was this second attempt of a settlement that would give the lost colony its name.**

**Due to a delayed shipment of supplies to the small colony, Lane decided to travel back to England with Francis Drake in 1586. He had planned on returning in 1588 with more supplies, but because of the Anglo-Spanish war England was engaged in at the time, Lane’s plans were derailed until he’d finally gotten the opportunity again in 1590; 4 years since he’d left. Perhaps the war was when the misfortune struck. What he found upon his arrival was not his family or the society he had helped found. It was an abandoned settlement. The tools were left lying around, the remaining supplies and food untouched, and no one could be found anywhere. There weren't even remains or a single bone to suggest a battle had taken place. The entire population of the colony had simply vanished. Instead, what remained was the carving of a word on a wooden post: Croatoan.**

**This, along with a map with a hidden star on it discovered later, would lead to many theories as to what aspired there. Some suggested that they'd relocated and assimilated into nearby local tribes, particularly to the indigenous groups on nearby Croatoan Island. To support this was evidence of European facial features in descendants of local tribal people as well as what seemed like European tools amongst their artifacts. Against this, was the fact that they could've gotten the tools through trade which was fairly common. But there was also the problem of the things left behind. If they had voluntarily moved, why would they have left so many of their own personal belongings behind? Out of the serious theories also spawned alien ones, some non-historians claiming the star hidden on the map was a secret UFO base and that the people of the village had been kidnapped. Furthermore, when White left, the colony and local tribes were on rather hostile terms. How likely would it have been for them to have integrated into a local tribe? This led some to theorize that perhaps local tribes murdered the colony, but there were no signs of a scuffle, of blood, of a fight or bones to suggest a massacre had taken place. This disappearance of 115 people, of the entire settlement, is what gave it its infamous name:**

**The Lost Colony of Roanoke.**

"There! I see it!" John White cried out, pointing at the island coming up on the horizon. He waved to the crew, "prepare to dock the ship!"

Arthur sat up and looked over the rails. It'd be a decade or so since he'd been able to visit the continent, preoccupied with his war with Spain, and even now, he had to escape with John's ship just for a chance to see Alfred again.

Alfred Jones, the personification of the British North American colonies on the main

continent, was still incredibly young and inexperienced and Arthur felt uneasy leaving the boy alone for too long. Hopefully, the lad still remembered him. Eventually, the ship arrived and everyone immediately got to work; unboarding, securing the ship to the docks, unloading the supplies and more importantly, reentering the settlement.

"This is some thick fog," a crewmate commented, struggling to see where he was moving the wooden crates.

"Of course there is. We're near the ocean and it's still rather early in the morning. It must have just rained," Arthur reasoned. He heard from John that the man had last left Alfred with his daughter and her husband, Eleanor and Ananias Dare, trusting them to keep the energetic boy occupied until Arthur returned.

"I'll go greet them first!" John called from ahead in the fog. It was slowly dissipating but not nearly at the speed, Arthur would like for them to begin moving effectively any time soon.

"Wait!" Arthur called and turned around to the nearest person, "can you take care of this?" The man looked confused but nodded. Without waiting for another word of affirmation, Arthur ran after John White. The last time they left, they hadn't exactly been on great terms with the people around, and going headfirst into the fog wasn't a good idea where these hostilities could still be happening. Even more, he could spook the colony, who may believe John himself to be an enemy. Or maybe it was something else, something Arthur couldn't quite put a finger on. It was quiet. Too quiet. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Eleanor!" John's called, "Eleanor! Where are you? Ananais?!" Arthur himself entered the barricade that marked the outer wall of the settlement and saw… No one. The houses laid barren and the streets vacant. Through the now quickly dissipating fog, he can see John's figure grow increasingly panicked, throwing open the doors. What happened to everyone? Arthur joined him.

"Alright, calm down. They must've gone somewhere. We won't do any good by

panicking," Arthur's words said, but anyone with eyes or ears could pick out Arthur's worried tone and searching eyes, straining against the grey backdrop that seemed to have covered the whole town. John nodded. Eventually, more people joined them and Arthur had no choice but to swallow his rising nausea of worry, not just for his own people but also for Alfred. If all 115 settlers had disappeared what would happen to him? Arthur quickly took the lead role, a comforting hand on John’s shoulder.

"We'll treat this as an investigation," Arthur declared to the group, "explore in partners. Check every corner, every room and every building in this place. If you find anything worthwhile, let me know immediately." The people nodded and formed their own groups, splitting up and shuffling off into the houses around them. He turned to address John. “The fog is letting up. We’ll scout further ahead .” Now resolved to find his daughter, his granddaughter and his son-in-law, or, at the very least, what happened to them, John led the way.

The deeper in they went, the more they split up to briefly check out the buildings and streets around them. They were on the main road now. And ahead of him, Arthur spotted someone. Finally! Someone left. Someone was here. Arthur's heart picked up as he got nearer and the figure outlined into something more concentrated. The shadow was tiny. Small. Was that...?

"Alfred?" Arthur called out. Almost immediately, the fog surrounding Alfred disappeared revealing the confused but calm personification. Arthur's eyes immediately went to searching Alfred for red spots, blood, open wounds. Had he been hurt? Almost immediately, his eyes were drawn to Alfred’s rabbit. His pet wild bunny he'd be carrying around since Arthur had found the boy. He seemed attached to the rabbit and the rabbit, in turn, seemed incredibly attached to him. Or, at least, what's left of the rabbit. All that remained was its white furry paw in Alfred's hand, a bloody meaty stem at the other end, as though someone or something had eaten it. And what was stranger was Alfred. Simply standing there with his 90% eaten rabbit in his hand, as though he hadn't noticed the rabbit was gone.

“You... What happened to your pet?"

Alfred blinked, confused at what Arthur meant before looking down, and immediately burst into tears. Panicked at the sudden outcry, Arthur scooped the little boy up in his arms and comfortingly patted his back. Alfred's hand dropped the bloody rabbit paw, too busy crying into his hands, rubbing against his eyes. Upon hearing cries, John and a few other people arrived on the scene to see Arthur comforting Alfred. A few of them let out a sigh of relief. At least their colony's personification was safe. But John had other pressing matters.

"Do you know what happened to Eleanor? Ananais?" John pressed. Alfred, whose sobs were only just dying down into sniffles, shook his head. John almost seemed to become angry, "what do you mean no?! You were with them, were you not?! Are you an idiot!?"

"Watch it," Arthur replied curtly when Alfred only seemed to sink into Arthur's chest, trying to escape the angry man, asking questions he didn’t know the answers to.

"I don't know!" Alfred cried, fat tears running down his face, snot running like the crying child he was, "I don't remember anything!"

"What's the last thing you do remember?" Arthur asked sternly. He didn't want to press too hard as John had done, it would only make the boy shut down, but at the same time he needed answers. Alfred shook his head, finally looking around the town, and noticing no one who was previously there, was there. And Alfred didn't seem that concerned at the fact no one was there. Another member calmly approached Alfred from behind Arthur, meeting the boy's face who had hid himself to look over Arthur's shoulder.

"Do you know what happened to the people here?" He asked.

Alfred looked up to him with wide clear eyes and replied with one of the most terrifying sentences Arthur had ever heard.

"What people?"

They looked at each other, communicating through looks. Not a good thing, as it meant it was definitely about something they shouldn't say out loud.

The second one asked, "Alfred, do you hear voices?"

"Hey!" Arthur almost cut in immediately. He knew where this was going. They were starting to suspect Alfred was a witch. That he was somehow possessed by the devil and it was through his evil powers that Alfred could decimate the entire town without a single drop of blood. Alfred looked up at Arthur for his commotion, as though looking for his permission to answer the question. After a few tense moments, he said, "answer truthfully, Alfred."

Thankfully, Alfred shook his head and the people exchanged another look. It's made them weary for now, but at least it hadn't spurred motion.

"What's this?" John picked up the white rabbit paw, dirtied with mud and blood, tainting the white fur into something more maroonish-brown. "It looks like someone ate it." Alfred burst into tears at the sight of his brutally murdered friend and Arthur put him down to inspect the paw for himself. He'd only seen it but hadn't had the chance to really investigate what would be the only piece of evidence they had of what really happened. Not being carried anymore, Alfred only cried harder.

"Hush child," one of John's crewmates said. Alfred did not hush.

"My rabbit!" He cried.

"You mean that eaten rabbit is yours? Did you eat it?" They asked, an expression of horrified disbelief. Arthur frowned and wanted to inject, saying that Alfred would never. The meat was raw. He'd think Alfred would’ve known better than that. But looking at the bloody raw stub, Arthur couldn't confidently say the rabbit wasn't eaten, because it really did look like the meat, fur, skin, bone, was just swallowed whole up to that point. Consumed. Eaten. Just as they'd said. But what was strange was the chew marks. That being, there weren't any.

Arthur bent down to Alfred and without warning, pulled back Alfred's mouth to look at his teeth. It was 16th-century teeth alright, but there weren't any large stains of blood or rabbit fur stuck between his teeth. Alfred made muffled protesting sounds, attempting to swat Arthur’s hands away. It was almost indefinitely not Alfred eating his own rabbit. 

"No," Arthur answered for the crying Alfred, "he didn't, you can check for yourself." One glance at the snobby wet child, they shook their heads.

"I think I'll pass."

Just as Arthur was about to stand up, Alfred gripped onto his arm, trying to get picked up. "I can't carry you forever Alfred," Arthur said.

"You have to! I can't run as fast as you!"

John raised an eyebrow, "run? From what?"

Alfred sniffled, "I don't know but I don't like it." Arthur ended up carrying the boy in his arms anyway and rubbed his back. Alfred has had enough excitement for one day. And so did they. With the disappearance of an entire village, and with zero clues about what had happened, there wasn’t a lot they could do.

"I wanna go home," Alfred said, muffled against Arthur's shoulder.

Arthur indirectly answered by announcing to his men, "we are to make a temporary camp on the outsides. We don't know what exactly happened yet so for the time being, we should be wary about this place." Everyone, eager to get away from the location where over 100 people had gone missing, nodded and as a group, they quickly began to move out of the place. When one of them suddenly called out, near the entrance.

"Hey! There's a word!" This caught the attention of everyone who heard him and rushed towards the wooden pole he'd been standing in front of. Those who didn't hear him still ran with the group, not wanting to be alone.

"What is it?" Arthur inquired and made his way to the front.

"Croa- I think, Croatoan?"

"Croatoan?" Arthur furrowed his eyebrows in deep thought, "as in, Croatoan Island?"

"It must be, right?" John glanced at Arthur, a new hope sparked in his eyes. Perhaps the people had just moved location to Croatoan Island, but still, Arthur had a gut feeling they wouldn't find anything even if they made it over there. Something didn't sit well with him. Why one word? Why just 'Croatoan'? If they'd simply relocated to the other island, why didn't they crave in an actual sentence? How hard would it be to carve, "Moving to Croatoan Island" once you'd already carved in a third of the sentence? It was weird, and Arthur felt like the discovery of the word in the wooden pole had just opened up more questions than answers. Was the disappearance not voluntary? Were the people actually in danger? One by one, the group filed out of the town. When Arthur glanced back at the empty abandoned settlement, he just noticed the fog was basically gone now, allowing him to see truly just how empty the place had become.

Had they… Actually, died?

Arthur glanced down at the little boy snoozing away on his shoulder, now safely cradled in his secure arms. And the problem with Alfred, despite having been there the entire time, he remembered nothing. Yet he seemed to know of a threat. A danger. As Arthur waddled the sleeping enigma back to the camp, his biggest question would concern the group. How did they know they were safe right now? Were they in danger at the moment? From something more than what they can see?


	2. Rewind

Alfred held hands with a still-living rabbit.

While there was fog, it wasn't as intense as it would be later on. People bustled around and about on the main road. In the front of one particular house stood a lady, holding a bundle of cloth in her arms. Upon closer inspection, one would see a face peeking out from the bundle. That was Eleanor.

"You're too slow, Ananais!" Alfred ran ahead of the man, who trailed after him, content with his own speed. At the sight of Eleanor stepping out of the house and spotting them some ways across the street, Ananais stopped to wave. Alfred glanced ahead of them, making sure they weren't about to run into anyone walking in their direction, but there was no longer anyone there. The fog was thick now, though had any number of people been there, you'd easily be able to see their outlines. 

For a second, Alfred just stared at the empty fogged up street in front of him, that'd previously been rich with activity, now desolated and eerily silent. And then quickly glanced back when he remembered at least Ananais was behind him. At least Ananais was there. At least—

"A—”

A single drop of blood escaped the swallowing presence, disguised in the cloak of fog. A single drop of blood. And even then, was swept away into the unsatiated appetite of ... it, right before the scarlet drop could taint the ground. Alfred blinked, strangely undisturbed. Who had just been there? Why couldn’t he seem to remember? Someone. Someone important. Someone was there. No. Clearly, there weren’t.

A strange white-grey fogginess crept into Alfred's wide sky blue eyes until he could’ve easily been mistaken to be a blind man. But instead, the fogged eyes simply put him into a trance. A submissive trance and tied him to a sort of calmness, an instinctual voice that he shouldn't run. That there was no point in running. So Alfred stood there, patiently waiting for something to happen. For the anticipation. The fog picked up speed and in a fraction of a split second, the rabbit was being wholly consum—

"Alfred?!" The world known to Alfred jerked so violently it gave him motion sickness. Arthur's call had broken the trance and Alfred's confused blinking erased the fogginess previously covering up his eyes, the fog that enveloped him like a stomach, dissolving him in an acid known to no man, instantly perished. It wasn’t until Alfred looked up to meet Arthur's panic frenzied eyes that he was able to even begin registering what had happened, let alone how he felt. It wasn't until he'd seen Arthur that the feeling of safety and security flooded him, finally allowing him to realize the deathly calm and spine-shivering feeling that tied his feet to the ground was terror. Head nauseating terror. Arthur's eyes left his to glance at the rabbit beside him. Alfred followed his eyes and.

No rabbit. There was no rabbit. A white fluffy paw tinged and dripping with blood, the only sign that it had ever once lived. No more. Lived no more. Alfred cried.

The next notable clip of him would be at the end of the survey around the village that day when they decided to leave, and Arthur had agreed to be at the end of the group, to ensure no one else would get lost here. He’d wait for every one of them to file out before turning his back on the village himself and the while with Alfred in his arms, slumbering against his shoulder.

It was like this that Alfred woke up from his dozing, just for a little bit, to open a tired eye and glance at the village over his guardian's back. The emptiness of it. Devoid of any and all life. The absence of it.

Alfred’s eyelid hovered between the struggle to stay open or to droop shut. But if you were there, if you could see, if you paid attention, you’d notice the few streaks of grey, crawling into the edges of the child's eyes. Draped there, half-lidded in dreams, he breathed.

“Roanoke.”


End file.
